Origins: The Life of Zaknafein Do'Urden
by Keirae Huruma
Summary: He is as a shadow, the slayer of many of his own in the darkness of this world. What made him to be this way? How did he become a Do'Urden? Why is his heart so different from mine? Zaknafein Do'Urden, we bid you, Tell your tale.
1. Prologue

His name Means Shadow

And Slayer…

He is as a ghost in battle, unseen and unknown

He is quiet as shadow, hidden in the darkness against the stone walls

And his fighting style, his dance, flows as a song.

So goes the way of the Helviate line. Those above the way they truly were. Before they were destroyed by him and his new house

The Do'Urdens? Truly? He is a Do'Urden now? Such power in a name.

Does not their name mean Walkers in the Darkness?

Could such a name be a foreshadowing of their demise by his hand as well? Or by one of his spawn?

He is as a shadow, the slayer of many of his own In the darkness of this world.

What made him to be this way? How did he become a Do'Urden? Why is his heart so different from mine?

Zaknafein Do'Urden, we bid you

Tell your tale.

________________

"The elves have betrayed us!" the head house yells to the counsel, banging his fist on the stone, trees surrounding the dark ones. Phyr'Drin Helviate stared on with a sigh. He looked around the room of his stupid species. All they ever longed for was blood and enemies were running out. They had to blame someone for something.

The elves did nothing Phyr'Drin knew all to well. The only thing bad they could have possibly done was mate with the opposite of their race, which was the Drow themselves. But of course he knew his kind to be worse than the elves ever were. The elves were peaceful but were accused of stupid and unreal things. Phyr'Drin stood in front of the crowd.

"I see no reason to have hatred toward the pale ones." he said aloud to the counsel. "What have they done to us?"

"We are different in race." another counsel head says aloud. "they are also plotting against our kind. They wish us out of their forests. The call us evil dark ones. They believe we must be forced to live down with the deep Gnomes in the Underdark, live with the Goblins! We are the ones who deserve to walk with the land walkers if anyone. We are a greater more powerful race than they!" He turned to the crowd of Drow, his family.

"Sit down Phyr'Drin!" someone yelled

"Listen to the Counsel! They know best!"

"If you don't like it, Die with the Elves!"

He stared on for a moment before sitting back down. He, with at least a small handful, would not be taking part in this foolish act. They were his kin, not his keepers.

"We will set up a battle plan to push the elves out of our forests, first the ones . They will not overtake us! We are the greatest species!" there were cheers from the crowd "we have power! And we owe it all to our new goddess! Our great and powerful goddess!" Chants of Lolth came from the crowd and the Head stood with his arms spread out as if absorbing some unknown power into his body.

The only thing he absorbed though was an arrow lodged in his throat. Blood spilt from his neck and he gagged, blood choked out of his mouth and he fell forward onto the counsel's table.

"Elves!" yelled the second head, who would now become the head because of the "untimely" death of the first. "Do you see their evil! They attack us unknowingly! Would we go into battle like that! Go into battle without them knowing?"

_Yes, yes you would._ Phyr'Drin thinks hatefully. There were minor screams as the Elves came out of the woods surrounding them. Then he saw her behind the counsel

"Phyr'Drin! He is the one behind this!" someone yelled "He told them of the meeting!"

"Do not blame this on one of you kind!" she said aloud, angrily. "Are you all so stupid? You brought this upon yourselves!" she stared sternly at the counsel and two shirked back slightly ashamed as the new head stared her down with his chin held high. Everyone knew that the Elves had done nothing. "We are not blind to your ways. Yes we have been taking the though of sending your kind to the Underdark, along with the small clan Silverymoon. We were going to give you a second chance before word of this came to our ears. Have we offered no Hospitality to your race? Have we not been kind?" she looked to Phyr'Drin "The House Helviate are a good example for the decency of Drow kind. As are Horlbar. If you took after them maybe we would not have to this." she put out her hand and her ladies maid put a document in her hand. " To the Houses of the Drow society. I, Lady Melthea of the Darkwood, Do hereby banish the Drow elves of Darkwood to the Underdark and take the land, that we offered to the dark ones in kindness, back into our possession, naming it Moonwood. If action be taken against our kind for this decree we will be forced to bring the surrounding elfish communities into this and bring around the demise of the race all together." she closed the document and stared at the counsel man sternly. He was fuming in outrage.

"The Underdark? Why must WE live among the svirfneblin?" she smiled at him.

"I would have thought of that before I took such rash action as to plot against the ones who gave you so much. You will be lead to the Underdark tomorrow morning, Take your things and-" she was cut off by a sickening gasp the erupted from her throat.

"ATARA!" He heard a young one yell, knowing it was his. Phyr'Drin felt his gut turn over as if it were being ripped from his insides. Others tried to follow him to her but they were shot with arrows. He dropped to his knee, catching her from falling onto her head.

Drow poison… he picked out the small dart from her neck. It had hit her so fast. So insanely fast…The child who was behind with the warriors ran over to her as well.

"VICTORY! THE LADY OF THE WOOD IS DEAD!" yelled the head. She gasped violently, holding close to Phyr'Drin.

"You… do not have… to go." she told him. "I was to tell… my People that… you would stay." He shook his head

"Melthea, I must." he forced himself to say. I cannot live here. Soon word of the Drow people will reach the ends of this earth and I will not live long." he looked to the child who was sobbing, playing with her mothers hair. She was dark like him but at the same time she had paler skin than he. Her hair was white and her eyes were not like Drow eyes. The were a perfect Lavender color.

"You must… take her then. She needs… her father… Keep her pure and don't let her fall t… your peoples way…" she cringed and he felt her twitch violently. The poison that was used was cruel and torturous… but it was fast. He could barely look at her face.

"Atara." the girl sobbed again. The word burned into Phyr'Drin's mind.

"I cannot. She- she will only be poisoned by my people! She will be made into a lady of Lolth. I can't"

"She.. will be… like her father." the woman choked before going limp in his arms. He lie her body down and the girls sobs grew harder. Phyr'Drin stood up and faced the head of counsel.

"This is the form of foolishness that got us to our fate. Now we will only create more of a war between our people?"

"I do not converse with traitors of Lolth." the Head told him. A sneer covered his face angrily. It took all he had not to attack. Phyr'Drin turned and picked up the child and she buried her head in his shoulders, wrapping her small arms around him.

"Well then I will walk alone with my kin on our trip to the Underdark tomorrow great high one…" He tells him, walking toward the village that his people would soon abandon, followed by his family.

He was the last male to have authority. Then he was sacrificed to Lolth for his insolence in front of the counsel. Soon his daughter took the ranks of House mother under the influence of her remaining family and their want for power in the Drow world in the Underdark. Her name was Matron mother Fleynkah Helviate.

* * *

"House Do'Urden's favor increases by day." said the first daughter of Fleynkah, Valdiira. "Lolth is truly taking a liking to them. And now they have their fourth youth. It's another girl." Matron Fleynkah drummed her fingers on her chair in a frustrated manor. They were the lowest high house of the Menzoberranzan even after so many years after her father and mothers death.

"And we have our third youth, a male. Is it really that great of a disturbance? Why do I care about the Do'Urdens?" the daughter smiled.

"Maybe we may gain the favor of Lolth. Maybe we can train the boy, make him great and powerful and then offer him as a master swordsman to train the men of their household. Possibly combine our families and make the greatest house the Menzoberranzan has seen. Rise Daermon N'a'shezbaernon from the tenth house to ninth, and so on and so forth with us at their sides." Fleynkah still drummed her fingers on her chair. She was intrigued by the idea only the slightest bit. She did not like the idea of giving up her title of Matron Mother but she enjoyed greatly the favor of their Deity.

"Zaknafein may be a valuable asset in the future." she looked to her other male son. He stood still by her side. "Zekafae." he looked to her quickly In response to her call. "after your sister you are to take your brother under your wing and make sure he is the greatest swordsman in the Menzoberranzan." she demanded sternly.

"yes matron mother." he said obediently, bowing to her and turning away from her. She stared at him.

"Did I say you could turn away?" she asked him smoothly. He was frozen and couldn't say anything to her. It was as if he was trying to pretend that he couldn't hear her. It only angered her. "Zekafae!" she yelled angrily and he turned to her, dropping to his knees in a bow toward her. He was scared. "Valdiira, take care of him." she ordered. Valdiira smiled widely and took out her snake whip. Fleynkah stood up. "I will be in my quarters, bother me only when you are finished."

She took her leave, thinking of her youngest son.

**Hey guys! R&R! let me know if you enjoy this story and give me any crit you have.**


	2. 1:Quiet:

**Soooooo sorry! this has taken me forever to post the second chapter, but now its here. Be warned MAJOR time skip! I'm renaming the previous one to Prologue because of such. **

**The only reason i skipped his childhood is because there wasn't much to tell. All Drow boys are just treated BADLY, so found it boring. ENJOY! ^^**

**R&R**

* * *

Zaknafein's eyes stared upon the floor, his sister's eyes staring him down with a large smile on her face. As Matron Mother she found pride in knowing she could promote her brother to Secondboy of the house.

It had been a while since Zak's mother had been killed, the perpetrator was unknown, but the suspected persons were put to death directly. Frankly, he was glad. If her face was as cruel as her voice, he never wanted to witness such. Valdiira's face alone, always wrapped in a twisted and cruel grin yet horrifyingly beautiful, sent shivers down Zaknafein's spine.

"You have done well, Zaknafein Helviate." Matron Valdiira's voice rang through the main hall. All the while he did not look to her face. "And you have reached the age; you are now no longer a page prince. We welcome you to the family as Secondboy" She paused and he waited for instruction. He knew that being a page prince would mean he no longer needed to serve the house, like a dog, but he still expected her to wish something of him. "Look at me." Zaknafein's heart seemed to pause.

Was it a trick? Would he be beaten for looking up at her? He wished deeply for it not to be so because he decided, in the end, to look. He feared a greater punishment for not following direct orders. There was a moment of terror in his heart but his sisters face softened, as much as a Drow woman's face could soften that is, and her mouth curved into a smile. He was intensely obedient for a page prince. Usually it would take a second time of yelling to get them to look up.

"Zekafae!" The Elderboy straightened up and looked to her. "Get his clothing." he nodded and grabbed a pair of boots and Zaknafein's _piwafwi_, along with two other articles of clothing for his torso and legs.

"Hurry and dress in these." Zak's sister demanded as his brother shoved the clothing into his arms. He looked to the Matron hesitantly but before she could get the chance to punish him for his pause in his actions he began undressing and replacing his new clothing on his body.

Zekafae looked to him, his head held a bit too high, knowing that the second-boy had more purpose than he would ever have, but he would not show that he knew it. He tried hard, internally, to keep whatever pride he had left. He was basically useless in the family but he would find meaning lest he be put to death. After Valdiira told him he was not to train the boy as their mother had previously said, and the beating that followed for talking back, he found it best to lie low and try not to upset the order of the room.

"Well, my son," Valdiira said with a smile on her face. She rose to her feet, hands out in a warm manor, again as warm as a Drow woman could accomplish toward a male. Zak almost cringed at the thought that she called him her "son", but he dared not show it. "You will be trained in swords play by the greatest." she motioned to the door, where now standing, was a Drow male with a bored expression on his face. He was not well known when looked at. His face was no where near recognizable.

Of course it was not recognizable, though. He was of the lower houses, one where the women were less in control, if not in equal control with the males. They bothered nobody, they followed nobody's rules, and they were, in fact, their own people. Lolth did not disfavor them, nor did she look highly on them. They were simply just there.

But what of this Drow male? Why was he to train Zaknafein? Zekafae questioned this in his mind, as did Zak himself. It was a curious situation and they found their sister, now Matron Mother, quite foolish and confusing. They were the lowest of the high. He seemed to be from so low a house that even they didn't know who he was, and that was saying something.

Was this the will of the previous woman, the mother of Zaknafein whom he did not get one chance to look at? Was it simply the choice, the foolish choice, of Valdiira? So many scenarios flew through Zek's mind.

Then, into action the mysterious Drow flew. He sensed the doubt in the family, those who were not the Matron of course. His swords flashed brilliantly in the very dull purple glow of the small hall. His form twisted and thrust in ways that were alien to Zaknafein. He did not find that a person could possibly twist in such ways to block or kill the enemies that were, as of now. Not present. He parried the invisible in brilliant and exciting ways.

The tip of his sword touched the tip of Zaknafein's nose, sending his heart racing. He did not cringe or move, despite the fact that he felt a small amount of warmth come down to his upper lip.

"Drin will be your private trainer, my brother." Valdiira told him with a purr in her voice. "He is the finest, though the least looked upon man in our society today. He is skilled in more ways than the drow know. He has seen the surface and dwelled among the walkers of such for years at a time, witnessing the harsh orb of light every wretched day." Already, Zaknafein had found a hero in the man. Drin just yawned, a bit bored of the Matron.

"Means of payment." He stated a bit too harshly. If he had been under Valdiira for real he would have been struck down but she took in a harsh breath and blew it off.

"Zekafae!" she snapped angrily. The boy tossed Drin his payment. He untied the small pouch and counted his pieces, fingers tracing every single piece before he nodded to her. Zak wiped his upperlip of the drop of blood, as well as his nose, trying to keep his new clothing clean as possible. He didn't want to look so sloppy his first day as Second-boy.

"I will take the boy into my care for the next ten years." Drin started, resheathing his sword. "You are not to come in contact with him." The woman straightened up. Zak looked up at the man, then elsewhere, trying to find some way of cleaning off his hands that were lightly smeared with blood.

"How will I know he is being taught in a way that I find best."

"He is not yours to care for now. I will make sure you have your master and I will make sure I collect my payment every ten-day. None else is of your concern." Matron Valdiira scowled at him.

"I feel for your mate, she must have such a low position in your family. It is no surprise that your family is so low in our society. With a male leading only the worst must befall you." She paused in the pace she had started in and Drin crossed his arms again, staring darkly at her. A smile crept across her horridly beautiful face. It seems she was striking a small twinge of anger with the man "Lolth only knows of the prayers she spills every night for the spider queen herself come and cut you down."

"Do you wish this one to be trained? I would not speak so low of my family or my wife if I were you Valdiira Helviate. We are of similar blood but I find no remorse in striking you where you stand, your entire house." The woman stared at him a moment with such a look of outrage that it seemed she would destroy him on the spot.

_Not now_, she decided quietly.

"Take the boy, then. I find no use for him until he is grown. Return in a ten-day and your second payment will be ready." Drin nodded and put his hand on Zak's shoulder. At first it seemed kindly but then the man bundled Zak's cloak in his hand and started out the door, keeping him directly to his side. "Train him well!" The Matron Mother yelled to him and Drin didn't do anything to assure her that he would. He only walked out, less than dragging Zak at his side.

The entered the streets of Menzoberranzan and Drin sighed, letting Zaknafien go. The boy looked to his hands that were now crusted, slightly, with dried blood.

"This society of women really pisses me off." Drin mumbled under his breath, looking either way and taking to the streets. Zak stood behind for only a moment before he started following Drin quietly. The adult male stopped a moment as did Zaknafein. "What are you just going to walk behind me with your head down like that?" The youth didn't say a word, barley acknowledged him. "If you are going to be a warrior you will have to hold your head higher than that, especially if your family expects you to be a Do'Urden. They're ranked fifth and you, last. Show some pride." Zak looked up and looked quite tense, but all the same took to his side quickly.

"You're awful quiet for someone who has just become Secondboy." The elder stated with a small laugh. Zak didn't say anything, still. "I find it alright though… for now." He added quickly. "I can only imagine what you were put through. I, myself, was barley put through such so I can only imagine what it is like." Zaknafein looked up to him with a look of curiosity. "My family isn't quite like yours. We hold our own, follow the drow way, but everyone is equal. Yes, the women are held higher than the males as well, but in different ways. We respect our women; do what we can for them, for they are the bearers of children. They go through childbirth; they mother the children so they deserve such." Drin looked down to see if Zak understood but the boy still said nothing and only stared forward.

It was almost unfathomable, the role this _male_ had in his family. Zaknafein tumbled over many thoughts that writhed in his mind. He questioned whether or not this man had ever felt the horrendous stinging bite of teeth of the unjust whip that had met his back multiple times. It was almost too much to think about, all of the troubles that he had gone through, only to find that some families were higher, or lower in some standards, than putting their males through such a degrading childhood.

"My blood is a quarter elvish, which is why we have such views." The man stated quietly to Zak. The boy felt something burn in his chest and he looked, stricken, up to the man. Drin let out a loud hearty laugh at the look. "You look as if you've seen a giant!" Drin exclaimed with hilarity marring his tone.

"I thought…" He paused and looked down. "I thought that all elves were ev-" He was cut off.

"Boy, there are many things this society will tell you and I will tell you, to hell if they are true." He looked back down to Zaknafein and the boy would not speak. "Forgive me for interrupting; those were your first words of the day."

The rest of the walk was in silence, not that Zak had relatively much to say. There was not much further to walk, though, for the family he would stay with lived not far from the wall that protected the Underdark from the unwanted creatures that roamed about. The place was not as small as he would have suspected either. It seemed they lived a decently luxurious life, less so than the higher houses, but more so than the lowest.

Keniryn was the household name. Only then did some spark of recognition come to Zaknafein. It was a very small family of mercenaries, not bound to anyone in the Menzoberranzan and very much against the true way of the Underdark. They were odd and only useful when it came to battle since they had experience on the surface, being trained by the ones who bade them worthy to train. Being Drow the family found it difficult to work into society in the sunlit land, as well as the place of darkness. Even so they were the greatest, and none opposed them since they cared not for position, lest they be killed.

"Well, Sir Helviate, welcome to your home... or hell, whichever you bid such a place like this to be, for the next ten years."

Zak stared on with a small look of wonderment, Questioning, himself, what he would call such a place.


	3. 2:Better:

Have you ever seen a Drow family dinner? He he, now you have ^^

* * *

Zaknafein lie on his back, chest heaving with exhaustion, fire burning within him, setting his lungs aflame. Blood, warm blood, ran down his left cheek to his ear. He heard the sound of footsteps coming toward him in a quick charge. Before Zak could think his sword was at the ready and blocking Drin's next move. He scooted himself back, trying to gain his footing as he warded off the adult drow, shakily and unsure of what would happen if he were to make a wrong move.

His sword flew from his hand, not from the force Drin put on it but from the sweatiness of his hands. He had lost his grip because of such and Drin's foot went into Zak's chest, sending him to the solid rock ground with a loud thud. His head spun, throbbing and aching with the impact. Zak held his head and forced back tears that sprung to his eyes as a reaction. Drin's sword was at his neck and the master sighed.

"I win, you're dead…" He huffed in a frustrated tone. He re-sheathed his sword and walked over to put up his weapons. "We're done for the day. Gather you things." There was silence.

Zak continued to lie on the floor, trying to gain some sort of conscious though. He was almost sick with the pain that cursed his head.

"Zaknafein!" Drin growled and the boy jumped, no matter how reluctantly, to his feet, holding his head. He walked over and grabbed his sword. "That is the type of hesitation that will get you killed. I may have proclaimed you dead, but you are always on the clock and must never, _ever_ hesitate in anything you do." Zak nodded, replacing his sword on the rack.

* * *

"Drin, you should be more careful." His wife scolded later that evening, inspecting the back of Zaknafein's head which was caked with blood. He looked to her with an incredulous look.

"More careful?" he questioned her. Zak winced at her touch and she looked to him firmly. "Alakdra, in battle nobody will take it easy on him. There has to be a day that you recognize what a threat his society holds."

"You will kill him before he completes training!" she shouted at him with a firm look on her face. "It has been only ten weeks and you have injured him multiple times. You are taking it to hard on him for a beginner. We don't even know if his sister took proper measures to figure out if his gift is even swordplay."

"We cannot question those higher than us, Alakdra." he shouted at her. She stared at him, wordlessly but he knew what ran through her mind. He sighed. "Melee-Magthere, when they bid him go, will not go easy on him. He may die if he does not complete his training as the best in all of Menzoberranzan. And he will not be taken by the Do'Urden family as their master, and where will that leave us? It will leave us, one, as failures, and two, dead. " Alakdra stood put her hand to the back of Zaknafein's head and he felt his head start to loose pain. "I can't lose you or Illiam, I just can't knowing it was my fault" Alakdra looked at Zak once more and sighed.

"With me as a cleric… I guess that he may not have any permanent injuries…" She took her hand from the back of Zak's head and helped him to stand. "Now boy, turn for me." he obeyed and she observed his head. "Its good that you are obedient as you are though. Never lose that." The wound seemed to be gone and she pat him on the back. "Alright Zak you'll be fine. Next time don't let him knock you around like that. Go wash up for dinner, and your hair. Get the girl." He obeyed.

Zak was at a loss. He felt a great weight on his shoulders. Not only did he play such a huge, vital role in his family, but he played a vital role in this one as well. The families lives were in the balance because of his families need for the favor of the spider queen.

"Illiam." Zak said quietly into her room. The girl, only of about five, looked over to him, rising in her cradle to look at him. She put her arms out for him to get her.

"Zak." She giggled. He sighed and walked in, grabbing her under her arms and taking her from the room.

* * *

Alakdra looked to Drin as Zaknafein went to get their daughter and clean up. He put his hand to her cheek and sighed.

"We cannot afford to take it easy on him." He repeated. She sighed.

"I fear, more, you killing him and that bringing the unwanted upon our family. We do not take part in raids or killing of our kind unless needed, Drin. If we were to kill him his fate would be the same as ours." she shook her head. "Maybe it was not a good idea to take him under our wing. The bad outweighs the good in every aspect, I cannot find how you look at this situation and find light." He smiled and pulled her close.

"Look where we are in this society. We are not the highest, but we are, by far, the happiest. I do not think that such a fate will overcome us. Lolth is not with us, but we do not want her to be, which is why nothing bad has befallen us." he pushed her back and looked at her, but she looked to the floor. "do not fear and have faith in me and we will be safe for many thousand more years to come." She smiled and looked up at him.

"I do have faith in you…" she alerted him.

* * *

"You have not touched a single thing." Alakdra stated frustrated across the table from Zak. He looked up and then back to his plate.

"I don't have an appetite." He grumbled, almost to himself.

"No wonder you're so weak in battle, your eating habits are unhealthy." Drin pointed out. Zaknafein sighed. "You do not eat nearly enough." He looked to his wife who was fixated on Zaknafein. She then looked back to her plate of food.

Illiam rubbed her eyes with her food covered hands and Zaknafein chuckled at the "Oh" she let out, her lips frozen in an "O" and her hands spread out as if she were surprised.

"There's are foods on my eyes, mommy." she stated matter-of-factly. Alakdra smiled as she rose from her seat and grabbed a cloth to wipe her child off with.

"Yes there are." she stated in a very motherly, humored tone. Zaknafein watched her and smiled.

He found comfort in the thought that the child would not grow up as he had, beaten and battered. He found an even greater comfort in the thought that this was the family he would be raised in for the next ten years. The place was not worthy to be deemed the hell that he had questioned weeks earlier. Home was a greater name for such, a greater name than the place where his sister sat at the throne.

"I'll be better." he stated aloud, starting to pick at his food and eat it. Drin looked to him, putting his hand to his mouth as he swallowed his food.

"Beg your pardon?" he questioned, putting his flask to his mouth.

"You don't have to worry about your family dying because of me." he said sternly. "I will be better." Zak looked to Illiam with a half smile as his mother wiped off her face and she groaned and whined against such an action. Drin stared at Zak for a moment and nodded.

"That is the attitude I like to hear." He informed the youth.

* * *

Ok so it's not like a real drow dinner, it's on the other side, if the Drow WERE decent. Either way R&R and tell me what you think.


	4. 3:Twelve:

"Alright you spoiled son of Helviate," Drin started in a very frustrated tone as they entered the training hall. He fingered a small purse at his side. "Perhaps we should start you off easy as my wife has suggested. We will start with your hand-eye coordination, agility, and ability to confirm what is happening around you with but a glance. All aspects, in battle and in life itself, will either make you, or break you." Zaknafein nodded in understanding as Drin pulled out a flat sided coin, one of the many coins he had acquired from Valdiira as of late. He tossed the coin to the second boy and, with a bit of a stumble to do so, Zak caught it. "Good, you can do that much, now flip it and catch it." Zak stared at the coin for a moment, his gaze turning up to Drin

"How do you figure this will teach me-" Drin, before Zak could finish, backhanded him with a stern look covering his face. That, itself, drew a confused, shocked stare from the student.

"We've discussed this time and time again, do not back talk. What am I to tell your sister when you go back to her when you have not learned so basic a thing. I am not your weaning mother, and from the scars on your back I'm sure you know well enough not to talk back." Zak looked to his feet as if he were a page prince once more. "My attempts of being kind are in vain, Zaknafein, I hope you understand this. This world is not made of anything except evil. You're going to get a very rude awakening if you do not realize this soon." Drin paused, sighing at the words that, even as he knew they were true, were depressing and foolish. "Now, flip it." The secondboy nodded and flipped the coin, catching it easily. Drin nodded, confirming he did a good job, tossing a second to him which, again, Zaknafein stumbled to get. "Alright, stack them and repeat." Zak, still confused of why this would help him at all, repeated the action, catching them easily, one in both hands.

Drin's shoulders slumped a bit, seeing how he had to catch with both hands, rather than only one. Zak, though, saw no real problem and still found it to easy.

"This seems foolish," He sighed "why are we not meeting at the sword? I do not find this the least entertaining." The master stared at Zak speechlessly for a moment and almost punished him for such words, but decided against it, letting out a light laugh at the boys insolence.

"You prefer pain at the end of my sword to agility practice, the easy stuff I may add." The swords master inquired, genuinely surprised at Zaknafein's boredom with such. Zak only shook his head, though.

"I prefer training that will be useful to making me be better. I promised you last night that I would gain in skill, I would not let a horrible fate befall you. I need to learn sword fighting." The boy was impatient, Drin knew, A trait that would have to be fought out of him. Impatience when it came to going on raids with groups, as well as patrolling the area, required such.

"Patience is a virtue, my young student." Drin stated, grabbing both Zaknafein's hands and turning them so his palms faced the floor. Both coins fell from his hands but Drin caught both with one before they had a chance to gain momentum toward the floor. "If you wish to speed up this process then, fine." He drew eight more, placing five on the top of each hand. "You will start with five. When you can do five, then six. And after six you will do ten, do you understand?" Zak sighed as Drin backed up, crossing his arms. The master could not help but smirk a bit. "Now repeat your previous actions. Fail, and we will meet at the sword, and I will not hold back like I have been for the time you have been here."

Zak rolled his eyes cockily, tossing the coins up into the air. His stomach turned over in terror as he found he would not be able to catch them all. The coins started falling different directions, rather than how he had figured they would. He barley had the ability to turn his hands over before he heard four of the coins hit the floor. His arms were branched out clumsily as an eighth hit the floor, having only caught two.

The sound of the last two on the floor, as well as the sound of blade against blade, rang through the stone room as Drin went in immediately as the eight hit the floor. Zak had barley enough time to comprehend what was happening but it was enough time for him to bring out his sword, parrying what would have otherwise been a deadly strike. Drin played with him for a minute, striking his blade quickly and sending him stumbling backward with the great force upon the opposing blade. The swords master, after a minute or so, reached around his back and pulled out a dagger, tossing it up and catching in an easier manner. He jabbed it at Zak who moved his sword to block the blow, only being met with his masters sword again.

Zak yelled in pain and nearly dropped his sword as he felt his foot being ripped in half from between his second and middle toes and up his foot, tendons being ripped and a sudden gush of warm blood filling his shoe. Drin let go of the handle and walked backwards, grabbing yet another sword from the rack. He turned to Zak and saw he had drawn the sword from his foot and brought it to use, charging Drin from behind. The master caught both blades with dagger and sword with a broad smile on his face. Zak looked weak and desperate, shaking in pain and possible rage.

"Very good!" Drin yelled in praise, catching the blade that was at the dagger with the hilt and pushing it out of Zak's sweating hands. He pushed the other blade away and spun around Zaknafein, catching him with his arm around the neck, pressing the dagger hard against his throat. "But you are still not nearly fast enough." He pressed harder, drawing a bit of blood, almost choking him. "Now, Because of your impatience, we will take this approach at the beginning of every session, from now on, until you can catch them. It will be the same when we reach six, and ten as well, until you can show me you can accomplish such a simple task." Drin paused for a minute, feeling Zaknafein fight to get his blade and arm off of him. "You can tell my wife, by the way, why I have actually increased the intensity of your training. I will not be taking the fall for this, son of Helviate." Drin let Zak go and the boy rubbed his neck for a second, immediately turning on Drin and swinging his fist.

The master, though, was far to quick and beat him to it.

* * *

Zaknafein's head felt groggy, as if he were submerged in water. He did not feel like he was breathing at all and his head felt as if it were to explode. He went to take his first semi-conscious breath but something stopped him. Suddenly, shockingly, his lungs started to burn and ache with an intensity far beyond anything he had ever felt before. It jolted him awake and his eyes burned as he opened them. He started to thrash and he felt a tug on his hair.

Drin pulled Zak out of the barrel of water and tossed him to the side, letting him skid to a stop on his own as he hit the wall. The boy coughed violently, ridding his lungs of the intrusive liquid.

"No falling asleep in class, boy." Drin said, Zak couldn't tell if it were serious or sarcastic though. "Especially when you are bleeding so profusely. You could bleed out." Zak rolled over on his back, still breaking hard and coughing violently. "You are getting better, better than yesterday at least, Zaknafein. I wish you showed this much fire in ever session. Your thought process has gained. You did not hesitate to come at me, even with the wounded foot which, in real battle, would have been the difference between life and death. Most opponents don't expect someone to come back after excruciating pain because of the shock of such. Hesitation is the greatest fault to any battle." As he said such he swung his sword down at the boy, quickly and almost shockingly, being met by Zak's sword which had been re-sheathed at his side after he passed out. Drin grinned.

"Was the water completely necessary?" Zak strained to say. He then threw out his uninjured foot, meeting Drin's knee, sending him stumbling backward at the shock

Within seconds, Zak's sword was at his neck in the first position of success he had ever been in. The boy, his shoulders heaving forward as he breathed deeply, chuckled to himself.

"It seems you are dead." He coughed, triumphantly, letting the words linger on his tongue. They were sweet words, tasting better than any sweet he had ever had the pleasure to eat. Both seemed, now, a rare delicacy

"So it seems." he chuckled lightly.

"You're always on the clock, right?" Drin smiled at the words and nodded

* * *

Sessions continued on as such, Zaknafein gaining in confidence and skill with every passing time they met after the coin toss.

The task of catching five coins, a task that would usually only take a couple of tries with a normal born-to-be swordsman, was still ailing the boy a grueling eleven times late, and each time he came out with a blow worse than the first. Though the blows ended up worse every time it was not easily. The swords master found himself having trouble finding himself a blow. Never did he try to hurt Zaknafein vitally but, in battles as they had, he had trouble not doing such. Intensity flowed through the couple and Alakdra scolded her husband every time.

Illiam just laughed, though, causing Zaknafein to forget his troubles each time.

"Alright, Zaknafein, Let's get this underway." Drin pulled out his swords after placing the coins on his hands. Zak scoffed.

"Its nice to know you have so much faith in me, Master." he said, almost rolling his eyes, but daring not to be cocky like so. Zaknafien almost held his breath as he tossed up the coins, watching them fall every which way. He snapped out his hands, catching the coins one by one. He did not move his feet but once, the rest was simply his arms and upper body snapping about to catch each one.

The last one landed in his hand and he felt a great sense of pride flow through him. Drin then sighed, putting his swords away.

"Well done." The master said with a second sigh. He then put out his hand, waiting for the coins and Zaknafein, gladly, gave up the dangerous pieces. Drin went to replace them but paused. He laughed to himself.

"What?" Zak questioned, a bit nervous at the laugh. Drin threw his head back to stare at the ceiling.

"It took you twelve times to do only six." Drin replied. He pulled up the purse and dumped all the pieces in his hand. "You are really going to hate me." He mumbled to himself. He turned to the secondboy who was staring dumbfounded.

"You aren't quite serious." he asked, his face flushing a light red, as Drin saw. The master laughed and shook his head, replacing the coins.

"Fine, next time we'll do ten." He replaced the purse and pulled out his swords, as did Zak. "I'll take it easy on you today." Zaknafein laughed.

"Why would you do that?" He questioned. "if you take it easy, I'm not gonna be merciful." Drin chuckled.

"Alright then." And he flew forward into his attack.


	5. 4:Justice in the Death of Drow:

_A/N- So its a pretty damn long chapter but it is VITAL to the future of "Origins" _

_Enjoy! ^^_

* * *

Zaknafein overlooked the Underdark world of Menzoberranzan with a light and calm stare. He often found peace overlooking the land and watching the flickering flames of faerie fire linger in windows, the only light that showed anywhere. The rest was seen in the infrared eyes of the Drow

His gaze drew to his house, or the house he had lived in for the past eight years, rather. He thought of his mock mother who showed him more kindness than he had ever seen in a drow woman, though she clearly still held the ideals and demands of one. He mused over the battles he remembered, from the time he had arrived to the present. He remembered all of the wounds he had gained, rubbing one scar on his arm almost lovingly. He thought of the parries he had been taught, and the time he had tried to correct the folly seen in one defensive move, failing in the attempt.

His thoughts were drawn to Illiam, the now thirteen year old girl whom he had watched over, watched grow. She was as his sister, and she was raised to be like her mother, a moral and loving girl who enjoyed adventure and always spoke her mind. Never did she leave what she thought unsaid, no matter how offensive or shocking.

"Zak!" a voice called. He turned only his head to glance over his shoulder, and then turned completely to see Illiam climbing the cliff to join him at the edge. He put his hand down, helping her up the rest of the way, almost lifting her from her feet because she weighed close to nothing compared to what he usually lifted to gain in strength. "Papa needs you." She huffed, hands on her knees. Her white hair spilled over her shoulder like a waterfall and Zak put his hand on her back, helping her to stand straight.

"I will be there in a moment." He informed her. "It wasn't truly necessary for you to climb all this way. You could have just as easily levitated up her as I do." She waved him off.

"Not nearly as fun, Zaky." She told him. He sighed at the nick name she had so lovingly given when she was only two years younger. "The beauty from up here really skews your view of what kind of a place it really is." She said lightly. Zaknafein nodded.

"Especially all of the schools." He pointed out. Illiam's gaze went to Melee-Magthere. She wrinkled her nose and shook her head, staring at the place. "Soon to be my new home." If it could even live up to such a title, he thought quietly, not bringing the fact to discussion. Illiam didn't respond to it. They stood in silence for a minute.

"You won't be the same." She whispered to him. He sighed, not wanting to agree, but nodding all the same. She wrapped her hand in his and leaned her head on his arm. He looked to the girl and thought of the sad truth of the words. But only ever was it a sad truth in the sense that he would have to leave the family and not be raised in their way of life, not when thinking of how he would be corrupted for he barly knew of the corruption. Zak did not know well as she that he would become more different than he could comprehend. He did not know as well as she, though under the same Master, the pain his kin, her kin even, brought to each other and the races that lived around. This hurt her deeply, having grown to love Zak as so much more than she had loved anyone.

Though he still could not comprehend completely the evil of the drow, having a kind heart already blessed to him by the elvish blood that ran quietly and secretively through his veins, he felt saddened that he would go onto Melee-Magthere, the place that would soon be his home

Or hell-

Zak found himself always finding he defined the places he had been as one or the other. Home was as Drin's household was. Warm and welcoming, even when he knew he was in for a scolding. Hell was the complete opposite. Hell was defined as a place where he would be made a servant, whipped with the heads of snakes to show him his wrong rather than communicating his wrong with words.

"Yeah." he finally stated in reply to her sad statement. "Onto Melee-Magthere."

"You will forget." she sighed, almost inaudible. Zak looked down to her, as if the words had hurt him. In fact, they had in a sense. Something pulled at his soul, ailing him deeply. Her words were so vague but meant so much. _"you will forget". _The words lingered in his head.

Yes. He would forget, that fact was as true and as brutal as the city he so keenly imagined to be less than it was. Though he knew no kindness lie in the city, he figured if one family could be so pure could not all the others possess such an ability. Illiam knew better. He would forget the ways of such kindness, become the monster that all drow males are expected to be. He would forget the feeling of equality and grovel for his life, if not once, many times. He would soon be a slave to the Matron of House Do'Urden, whomever she showed to be, a Fighter, and a trainer,

A servant of Lolth.

He shuddered inwardly at the thought of the Spider Queen.

"You should not leave." Illiam said insightfully. Zaknafein smiled and almost laughed aloud at the statement. She shoved him, taking her hand from his. "You think I kid!"

"I think you do." He chuckled to her, turning to look into her eyes. She wrinkled her nose and turned from him, her hands interlocked and under her chin. She looked as if wild ideas were running through her mind.

"The worst that could overcome you would be disfavor of Lolth-"

"Which I do not fear. It is your life, the lives of your mother and father, I fear for." she scoffed.

"Do you believe my father could not protect us? I believe that you and he would make a fine guard for our family against those who oppose such." Zak laughed aloud and put his hand on her head.

"You forget the strength of the House Daermon N'a'shezbernon,"

"They do not deserve such formalities, Zaknafein." Illiam chuckled aloud at the statement of their ancient name. He looked to her with disapproval of her interruption and she sighed and waved her hand, bidding him continue.

"They are strong; there is no denial of such. My family and theirs combined would not bid well for anyone. I will not see your head cut from your shoulders, which I fear would be your fate in the end of such. I do not know how long I would hold against my family and family to-be." She sighed as he had foiled her logic, in a sense.

"To the surface then. We will go to the surface! My father has been telling me I am about of age to travel there. Maybe we will make our lives there, with you at our side. What dark elves will come against us on the surface, we who are learned in the ways of the land walkers? There is also the orb of light to consider. We could take a boat, that's a device that can carry many across great seas of water, over to Luskan, then from there to the south." she paused, not looking to her companion. "Or even go to Silverymoon. Our family is welcome there, maybe-" she then looked to Zaknafein who was staring at her with a look of disbelief on his face. He might as well have screamed "_you have got to be kidding me_". The girl sighed and clapped her hands to her sides. "You're right."

"It was a well thought out scheme though, Illi." he praised with a smile. "And I would love to see a 'boat' one day, but I doubt such a scenario would be possible." she nodded and he put his hand on her shoulder, turning to go down the cliff. He turned back as he started to help Illiam down, but she stood still, overlooking the town with her hands on either arm.

"Zak." she turned to stop him in his walk only to see him waiting. Her shoulders sulked with a weak smile on her face. "If you could stay, would you?" she wondered. He smiled and had no reason to wait in responding. He knew the answer well.

"Definitely." She smiled back and took his hand, heading back to their home.

* * *

"There he is!" Drin exclaimed as Zaknafein entered with Illiam in tow. "Come, sit, we have a few things to discuss." Zaknafein, who was never fond of Drin's punishments, followed orders quickly. "In two years from now you'll be admitted to Melee-Magthere." That statement, alone, drew a well defined and purposefully loud sigh from Illiam who leaned, arms crossed, against the wall. Drin looked to her with a cocked brow, catching her attention and waving her from the room. The girls shoulders sulked and she walked out to her room. "First of all I have to congratulate you on your progress under my wing. I haven't won a battle in weeks now. You'll do well in the school and once you have graduated I demand that you come and visit so we may see how your skill has increased." Zak grinned widely, full of pride.

"That will not be a task left undone, Master." he stated. Drin chuckled and clapped his hand on the boys shoulder.

"I would hope not." he continued to smile for a minute but he looked almost pained. "Secondly… I have something to ask of you." Zak stared intently.

"Will what you wish, Master, I will not fail you." Drin had to wave that promise off, knowing that the boy might not understand. He stood and turned, back facing Zak, and traced his finger on a map of the surface realm, prodding a small hole where Moonwood had been ripped slightly.

"You have grown well under two who were raised and learned of respect and kindness. We do not value Lolth or the way of the Drow quite as much as the people that will take you under their wing. I understand fully that you will change, you will bring so many-" he couldn't finish what he was saying for he felt a great swelling in his chest. He didn't want to believe this boy would bring death to anyone, he couldn't. He turned back and stared at Zak, taking his seat again. "I understand you must quickly learn discipline and the way of the drow… but I ask when it is the elves of the surface that you hunt, you not kill them. Please, do not kill them." Zak's eyebrows now mocked his masters, furrowed, but it was a confused expression that marred his complexion.

"Will not the failure to do so bring disfavor on my family?" Zaknafein asked him. Drin sighed and hung his head and closing his eyes. A knot formed in his stomach.

"I had hoped you would not care for disfavor-"

"I do not!" Zak snapped, almost insulted but understanding of the misconception. "Disfavor of Lolth does not mar my consideration, Master. It is the promise of death following the act that follows such disfavor." The claim was true, Drin knew all too well. Unfortunately his views on the situation were far different from the boy's. He stood and shook his head, turning again from Zak.

"I feel as if I should not ask this of you because you are not yet grown enough to understand, have not been around enough Drow to understand the absolute folly of the words and the ideas that you will muster after my claim." He sighed. "But with such knowledge I have of our people I care not, knowing that you will very well come to mock the ways of life. No, I do not find pain in telling you what I will.

"You have been taught by myself, a follower of a moral way that is mocking in the way the elves, thus you hold some compassion in your soul, surely. Even so, you have been taught as you were young to curse the name of the elves, taught that they deserve the worst because they forced us into the Underdark. You are taught they are in the wrong, they are the evil when we," He pointed to his chest, his face becoming furious and voice climbing. "Are the ones in the wrong!

"They do not deserve death as much as we, Zaknafein; you must come to understand this. Why do I possess the kindness your sister lacks? Because part of me feels remorse for my actions, part of me feels angered by such an awful lack of moral regard for a person's well-being. Such is the heart of a man of elvish blood! The elves are peaceful and kind!" Zak, confused, considered the man's words, trying to put meaning into them. He could not comprehend what he meant, though.

"Surface elves hold no folly in their way of life," Drin continued. "Unless you mark strength and morals as such. So why must they die? Why must they be sacrificed in the name of cursed Lolth, Sacrificed for the joy and fun of the Drow, Sacrificed so we can go on, continuing a pitiful existence in health and high praises of the Spider Queen?" There was a pause and Zak opened his mouth to answer when his master didn't continue. "It was rhetorical, Zaknafein." He sighed, before the boy could start. Drin rubbed his eyes with one hand and sighed, dropping his hand to his side and straightening out his thoughts. He started in a slow pace gaining, also, his composure from is sudden outburst of anger that had sent the youth reeling for answers. He seemed as if he was trying to make sense of the words that flew from his mouth, but he knew all too well that they were true and without flaw.

To Zak, though, there was flaw. Lives, Surface Elf of Drow, were precious. Why would his family raid in the name of just killing? He had been taught that the Drow were evil, but never with full explanation, always being told he would find out why sooner than late. Was his master trying to say that he should die in the name of the Elves, the ones he did not know, let alone care for.

"I am not saying that you will be faced with such a task, Zak, but you have to understand you have to believe, that the land walkers are not of evil, are never in comparison to the Drow." He sighed once more and roughed up his hair, scratching his scalp. "Just know that there may be a time in your life where sacrifice is the more noble path. Just know that there is no time in your life that your life would be better sacrificed for another Drow, Including yourself. If you see death in the future of another, turn away and make the world a better place. If you see your death coming, do not give up but do not make effort either. There is no place that a Drow is accepted for anything more than a murderous monster. On the surface we are seen as such, and acceptance of your peers is a sign you are successful in your murderous life." Zaknafein looked down in deep thought about the confusing, and very threatening, lesson.

"So why even follow, or attempt to follow, society if I am to die anyways, in the name of some elf I know not?" Zak inquired matter-of-factly. Drin only shook his head.

"Time will reveal you your answers, as I often tell you. Your path will not be formed solely from the words I aimlessly give you, trying to inspire your path. One day they will have great meaning. For now go to the academy in two years, train as a Drow warrior, and serve house Do'Urden. Your houses will join and both will rise far with Zaknafein Do'Urden leading its children." Zak flinched at the name, the name he would bear once joining their ranks. Drin put his hand on Zak's shoulder. "Just be glad to know that the follow of the Drow way will bring you success, and greater satisfaction, in knowing you are serving the House, bringing about the deaths of your fellow Drow, ridding the world of such evil." At that Zaknafein's stare turned to shock. He leapt to his feet and wrenched his shoulder from his master's hand.

"Killing my own?" he yelled incredulously. The man stared up at him, then closed his eyes and sighed a hopeless sigh. The boy would not understand, not now at least. "You, kin to elves and trying to protect them with your words, telling me to sacrifice my life for them, will tell me I am to kill my _own_? I am not of elvish blood, but must protect them, but I am of Drow blood and must kill? I am a Drow, Drin, of pure blood of a Dark elf! I would faster kill an elf than-" He was stopped short as Drin took him by the throat before he could finish his words. He had seen Zaknafein, in rage of the moment, start for his sword on his belt. The young Drow now hung a foot off the ground by his neck against the wall, nearly losing consciousness at the collision.

"So none of my words have registered?" Drin spat loudly. "The Drow, bringing death and condemnation on the peacefully races around them as well as on each other, are to live freely without fear of death, healthy and full lives? You speak as if it is news to hear a Drow kills another. It is the cruel and evil society, Zaknafein Helviate!" He gave the boy one quick jab into the wall and let go roughly. "Drow are not so noble as to let their own live when they wish to climb in society. Your people _do_ kill each other, and you will as well, as order of your Matron, whoever she may be." Drin sighed flustered, holding his head. "I am trying to give you_ peace_!" Zaknafein rubbed his neck and coughed a bit, straining to swallow. His confusion and frustration was not leaving and it was starting to make his head hurt.

"Boy… Killing your own is a terrible feat. Its even harder, though, when you do not see justice in the act. You must see that there is justice. This is why I ask you not to kill the elves, because there is no justice in such. Greater justice, if you so choose to murder the innocent, could be found in your death."

Things started to come together in Zak's mind, though not completely. Drin sighed

"I do not expect to get through to you… Today at least" He informed the Secondboy, walking to leave the room, but pausing in his walk. he put his hand on Zaknafein's shoulder. "I'll discuss what else I wanted to later. Right now rest on the thought. " Drin turned to walk out, only to see Illiam staring out from the hall. She, who was on the floor, looking at her hands in her lap, met her fathers gaze and shot to her feet as he passed her. She looked to Zak, taking a momentary glance at her father, and took to his side.

"He's right, you know. Even I wouldn't sacrifice my life for _you_, Zak." The words stung him only slightly. He knew she meant well with her words, for she had been raised against the Drow way. He could only shake his head and pass her by, heading to the room that neighbored her own.


End file.
